


Ticket To Fly

by FishLeather



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aliens, Gen, Robots, space
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 13:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11291937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishLeather/pseuds/FishLeather
Summary: Follow a human through their first baby-steps into the galaxy, after leaving Earth for the first time.





	Ticket To Fly

My eyes watered as I dry heaved into a bag. Was this standard for humans? The insectoid seated across from me make a clicking noise in disgust, and turned yellow.  
"Sorry..." I said, before another heave. "First... time."  
The yellow stranger raised a claw to point at the viewing port. It probably just didn't want to be face-to-face with someone currently warp sick, but at the time I thought it was trying to air out the cabin, so I pressed a button that looked like it would open the window fully. See, I didn't exactly study much of the travel guide, not even the parts warning about the vacuum of space. The button instead retracted the window shade and was taken aback by what I saw. The sky was... black. Not the reddish color you see from closing your eyes in an intra-planetary car. Not the bluish gray of night sky when you look up from Earth's city, streaked with lights in every neon hue. It was like looking into the all-seeing pupil of the universe. I don't know how long I looked through that window at the galaxy that was now my home, but I was sure that one day I would know my place.  
When I felt a lurch in the cabin from the landing system taking over, I looked away from the window to find the bug gone. I stood up, with my legs complaining from the long, cramped trip. I stepped out of the cabin and into the station complex. My wristwatch pinged. When I looked at it, it had changed to this planet's local time system, and displayed [a:47w], with a rough translation of [Sunday, 11:31ppm ] after I changed the mode. So the letter was the day of the week--  
I was interrupted from my detective work when I tripped over a cleaning drone. It beeped rather expectantly. I swallowed. "Sorry?" I offered.  
That seemed to satisfy the robot, and it rolled away.


End file.
